


And so it begun...

by Govi



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-23
Updated: 2010-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-07 12:01:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Govi/pseuds/Govi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A serie of New Zealand drabbles, written for Viggo's 50th birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And so it begun...

**First Step**

  
During his first day on set most of the cast dropped by to greet him. Viggo tried to tie the names to the right faces, and succeeded mostly.

He was on his way to his car, tired, bruised and still jet lagged when a voice stopped him. He turned around to a blond man who looked vaguely familiar.

“Sean,” the man said, extending his hand. “I just wanted to greet you, that’s all. You look exhausted, so I’ll let you off the hook for tonight. Tomorrow night I’ll buy you a beer.”

He turned and left, and so it began.

  
**Promise**

  
Viggo and Sean got along very well from the beginning. They were peers and shared love for art, music and wicked humour. Their acquaintance was easy, and the beer flowing the result, not the reason.

Now and then other cast members dropped by their table, hoping to share a few laughs and beers, but left, feeling strangely excluded.

Both proud fathers, they talked about their kids. Both actors, they talked about work. Both men, they realized some things didn’t need talking.

The promise was there though, right between the watery rings on the beer stained table, and they left together.

  
**The Road**

  
Sean drove them up to his place, as he seemed sober enough to do so. It was a thirty minute drive, maybe just ten miles, but the road was winding.

For a while Viggo’s hand rested on the seat between them, and then it lifted and settled on Sean’s thigh. There was no pressure, it just rested there.

It felt good, like Viggo’s hand belonged there, and it somehow eased Sean’s anxieties about what would happen when they got there.

Viggo looked like he knew, and maybe he did, and all Sean had to do was follow the road.

  
**The kiss**

  
Viggo took no time for small talk, once inside the house he pulled Sean close. Sean struggled against him, and Viggo understood this was alien for Sean, who maybe expected a hand on his cock, but not on his face. Viggo going down to take in his dick wouldn’t faze him, but the tongue sneaking into his mouth sure did.

But Sean looked so damned kissable, and Viggo firmly stood his ground, never relenting until Sean gave in and kissed him back. Fight out of him, he let Viggo press him up against the wall and melted into his kiss.

  
**Broken Rules**

  
Like a stubborn child, digging its heels in, clawing toes in loose sand, he clung to his last bit of reason. He was never kissed before by a man, at least not like this with tongue and teeth, a warm hand on the nape of his neck, keeping him immobile.

Sean knew if he really wanted he could break loose, but something kept him pinned. The rules in Sean’s law, cast in iron, were simple, this for girls, that for blokes, and he liked simple, but were now to break.

Sinking into Viggo’s kiss, he put a stop to reason.

  
**Flesh**

  
Like a kid tugging on gift wrapped parcels, tearing away paper and tape, he ripped open fabric, buttons, and zippers, without ever breaking the searing kiss.

A tearing sound and Sean grunted, in pleasure or complaint, Viggo didn’t really know or give a fuck, just wanted to get his hands on naked flesh.

He tried to tug Sean’s unzipped jeans down, struggling with the belt keeping it in place, until he finally succeeded. He reluctantly let go of Sean’s mouth, and slowly licked a path down the arching body, tasting every sweet inch of his sweaty, naked, golden unwrapped gift.

  
**Taking the Lead**

  
Having his nipples sucked made Sean hiss, the tongue dipping into his navel made him squirm, and when Viggo took in his weeping cock Sean was close to whimpering.

Instead his hands went down, fingers tangled in strands of silken hair, holding Viggo’s head in place. Tired of being led, he took the lead, grabbing a hand full of hair, pulling Viggo’s head back almost violently, feeding him as much of his cock as he could take without actually choking.

Dizzy, he looked down at Viggo’s face, mouth rounded around his cock, soft hair tickling his fingers, and he came.

  
**Perfect Poetry**

  
Viggo mumbling a few lines, probably poetry, made Sean open his eyes slowly. Even on his knees Viggo looked like he rightfully owned him, and how the fuck did he do that ?

Grabbing Viggo’s wrists Sean pulled him onto his feet, until they were face to face. Still catching his breath, Sean looked at Viggo, stating my house, my turn, and he dragged Viggo behind him.

The bedroom seemed days away because they had to stop again and again to let Sean taste himself on Viggo’s lips.

Then Viggo was naked, bent over the bed, poetry turned into perfection.

  
**Fearless**

  
Viggo closed his eyes, clinging to the dreamy feel of perfection, Sean rummaging and cursing in the en suite bathroom ; a triumphant growl, the bed dipping under Sean’s weight.

Sean’s cock burnt hot against his legs, urging Viggo to open and allow the long slick fingers to slide and twist inside him. His body sang in harmony with pain and lust, and the last time he felt like this was when he tried LSD for the first and only time. Being high like that had scared him shitless back then.

Now he welcomed the rush when Sean's cock filled him.

  
**La petite mort**

  
It was not like before, no more dreaming, now all was rawness and need and hunger. Viggo’s body ached, arched and then let go underneath Sean, and Sean’s hand on his cock.

He spilled over that hand hotly, unable to make any sound, and then Sean shuddered against him, uttering a deafening cry.

“La petite mort,” Viggo said, when he regained breath.

Sean lifted a brow, not really up to listening to poetry, or whatever it was Viggo was on about.

“Little death,” Viggo translated, “that’s what the French call orgasm, and for the first time I think they’re right.

  
**Not leaving**

  
Somehow Sean was not surprised when Viggo, after cleaning up, made no attempt to leave. He settled in Sean’s not very large bed like he belonged there, and Sean had to get up to find an extra pillow, because Viggo’s head rested on the only pillow there.

He asked him what time he had to be on the set, and Viggo answered sleepily. Sean shrugged and set the alarm, then crawled into bed next to him, punching the pillow into submission.

Only when deep breathing betrayed Viggo sleeping, Sean snuggled closer, his arm sliding around Viggo’s waist, holding him close.

  
**Woof !**

  
Sean usually grabbed breakfast on set, which was far easier than fixing it himself. But maybe Viggo would expect tea and toast. Tea he could do, but there was no bread, nor a bakery anyway near.

He could ask Billy, who lived only three houses away from him. But he knew Sean never ate breakfast at home...

Ten minutes later he knocked on Billy’s door, telling him about the poor starved dog he found in his garden this morning. Could Billy spare some bread ?

Billy looked at him, his eyes dancing,

“Does Viggo bark and play dead Sean ?”

  
**Turn and turn about**

  
Viggo looked a bit uncomfortable riding Brego today, he shifted on the saddle, a slightly pained expression on his face.

Sean rapidly swallowed his smirk, when he noticed Viggo looking at him. Too late though, and he knew he was in trouble. Thank God – and Eru to be on the safe side – Boromir didn’t go on horseback too much, and Rivendell was shot already.

In his mind he went through the coming days filming and paled, thinking about the very basic wooden canoes Pete showed them a few days ago.

He had actually been looking forward to that. Seemed fun.

  
**Frustration**

  
They are shooting the scene on the shore of the river Anduin, Boromir arguing with Aragorn on the path to follow, on Gondor, on Aragorn himself.

For some reason it needs a lot of takes, and they both get tired. Something starts to surface in their performance. They know it’s there, and maybe Pete does, but manage to hide it mostly.

Then, when Boromir grabs Aragorn’s arm in his utter frustration, and Pete shouts “Cut,” it is Viggo looking at Boromir, his voice a low growl,

“If only I could, I would have you now, right here in the sand.”

  
**Drunk on Viggo**

  
The shower cubicle in the trailer was pretty small for one man alone, but they still managed to get in together. They kissed under the cascade, anything else impossible, tongues curling and twining, until the water turned cold.

Grabbing a towel, Sean started to rub himself dry, his short hair spiked.

Viggo rested a wet hand on Sean’s shoulder, waiting for his turn. Hair dripping and sticking wet to his face made him look like a boy. Sean dropped his towel and pulled Viggo even closer.

Lapping on rivulets streaming down the bared throat he got himself drunk on Viggo.

  
**Opening up**

  
Sean allowed Viggo to push him onto the bed, their tongues flicking, Viggo’s hand stroking the inside of his leg, then higher, more intimately and Sean gasped when the first slick finger entered him.

Viggo looked grave, almost stern, breeching Sean’s body, and Sean turned his face aside, hiding the tear escaping.

A slow burn turning into fire, Viggo’s face softening and melting in the heat, focus forgotten.

Sean’s hands clawed in the sheets, then shot up to cling to the headboard. Something inside him unravelling slowly with every deep perfect thrust, and maybe soon would come out in words.

  
**Pet Name**

  
Eyes closed in bliss, jaw slackened, Sean came. For a moment he looked like an angel, Viggo thought, but thought it wiser not to say so.

Only recently Sean had loosened up a little, slowly lowering his defences. At first he had pushed Viggo away when he tried kissing Sean, or even holding him. Struggling with the concept of male sex being more than just that. Calling him “angel” would probably prove a bit too much.

Viggo mused about the demonic things Sean might do to him then, and he grinned..  
“What ?” Sean asked suspiciously.

“Angel,” Viggo said tenderly.

  
**Don't ask, you might just get an answer.**

  
Viggo had the unnerving habit of waking up in the middle of the night, switching on the bedside lamp, and scribbling words on his notepad. Turning off the light he was back asleep in minutes, leaving Sean wide awake on his side of the bed, deciding on kicking Viggo out first thing next morning. He needed to sleep, dammit.

Only once, Sean read the scribbled words and managed to decipher them; salt, waves, wet, and asked Viggo, ”is it a poem about the sea ?”

Viggo squinted at the paper, then shook his head.

“The taste of your come Sean.”

  
**Starved**

  
When he got home Viggo was on his couch, writing in his journal, flat on his belly and stark naked. Sean climbed on the couch between spread legs. He had been hungry for Viggo all day, almost starved.

He licked the smooth flesh of a shoulder, and Viggo’s pen shot out over the paper, stilling when Sean’s tongue dipped lower, lingering on the small of Viggo’s back.

Hungry for more, Sean pulled at firm cheeks, lured by irresistible dark scent, and then delved in, tasting all of Viggo . A choked cry, almost a sob, and then the pen dropped.

  
**Green fingers**

  
For some reason they are at Sean’s place almost all of the time, but not tonight. Viggo goes to his bedroom, opens the window, and changes the sheets.

Sean steps out of the kitchen door into the surprisingly large garden. When Viggo joins him later, Sean turns to look at him sternly.

“Okay Vig, our next day off I will try and turn this sad prairie into a garden.”

Viggo, who has entirely different ideas on how to spend a mutual day off argues, but Sean doesn’t budge.

Suddenly picturing a sweaty, half naked Sean, Viggo grins and readily relents.

  
**Down to Earth**

  
Every time Sean looked up from weeding, Viggo schooled his face to thoughtful, like he was thinking about a poem, and then he quickly scribbled down some words, laying his hand on the rough bark of the tree he was sitting under.

Sean looked sweaty and delicious, and thinking about shoving down the dirty shorts and fucking him wasn’t really very poetic.

“You’re eying my arse, aren’t you, you pervert,? ” Sean finally asked.

Viggo looked indignant. “No Sean, I am in contact with this beautiful tree.”

“Bollocks,” Sean said. “You were pissing against that tree only last night !”

  
**Precaution**

  
They were about to go to the pub, there was a football match on big screen tonight, and when Viggo came out of the bedroom wearing his San Lorenzo shirt, Sean decided to put on his Blades shirt.

“Hang on,” he said, and knelt in front of his big dresser, to open the safe that came with the rented apartment.

“Are you keeping your Blades shirts in the safe?” Viggo laughed and Sean looked at him defiantly.

“Those fucking hobbits stole my last two Fray Bentos pies, and used them as Frisbees, I am not taking a chance Vig.

  
**Favour**

  
They made a bet about the football match. Forfeit was *a favour,* and Sean had been quite sure to win, and also quite sure about the favour he would demand from Viggo .

Unfortunately he lost.

Viggo looked him straight in the face when he told what he wanted, and Sean could feel his face turn fiery red. He hoped Viggo was joking, but at the same time he just knew he wasn’t.

Sean cursed, and Viggo waited it out patiently. Finally Sean muttered, “Fine.” yanked down his pants and shorts in one go and lay down over Viggo’s lap.

  
**Shameful Delight**

  
Like the blushing skin of perfect apples, Viggo mused, admiring Sean’s freshly spanked ass. Not a thought to share with Sean though, who had to be challenged into it in the first place.

Sean made no attempt to move, seemed to take to it with shameful delight. He even raised his ass a little, obviously asking for more. The gloved hand came down once again, and Sean groaned, rubbing his cock against Viggo’s jeans clad leg.

Unable to resist, Viggo tasted the hot smooth skin, then bit down sharply. “An apple a day,” he said in answer to Sean’s cry.

  
**Doubts**

  
The fake blood on Viggo’s face tasted vaguely sweet, even a bit sickening. Boromir’s face looked strangely untouched by death.

Viggo noticed things – people - characters – got blurred in his head, all because of Boromir’s impending death.

Not that Sean would leave anytime soon, but he would at one time. Boromir dying meant Sean leaving and Viggo did not know what it would mean, not at this moment when he lay on top of Boromir, staring at the stilled face.

Eyes opening, Sean’s seemingly bloodless face betrayed nothing but a faint wet trickle, telling Viggo what he needed to know.

  
**Ebay**

  
Sean had been grumpy for no reason all evening, and finally Viggo sat down on the armrest of Sean’s chair.

“I think I’ll sell you,” he stated.

Sean huffed, “Sell me?”

“Yes, I’ll put up your picture up on Ebay, I think the one of you in cuffs I took last week. Then I’ll tell them how you enjoy nipple play, how you love being fucked, and how gorgeous you look when you come undone.”

Sean grinned, bad mood rapidly disappearing. “You think they’d buy me ?”

“What would they do with a grumpy old ass like you ?”

  
**Hot**

  
Sean looked warily at the candle burning on his side of the bed. “Power out ?” he asked, knowing all too well it wasn’t.

Viggo didn’t answer, busying himself with getting Sean undressed.

The first drop of hot wax on his nipple was wrong and right at the same time, and Sean squirmed in his bonds, said "stop" and "more" in one breath.

Viggo tilted the candle, dripping a trail of see-through drops cooling to white on Sean down to his pubic hair, almost hitting his twitching cock. Eyes wide, Sean tried to say stop.

“Do it,” he whispered hoarsely.

  
**Carrot**

  
Hearing Viggo’s voice, Uraeus peeked over his stall door. Viggo petted the big head, and rested his head against it. Man and horse looked at each other in mutual worship, while Viggo fed him a carrot.

The voice Viggo used talking to the horse was quite similar to the one he used in bed, and it got Sean horny. He stepped in close, pressing Viggo bodily into the stall door. He lay a hand on Uraeus' nose, the other hand on Viggo’s waist.

He rubbed his erection against Viggo’s arse, his voice a dirty whisper.

“I’ll feed you a carrot.”

  
**Dilemma**

  
In the car home Sean, who had seemed very pensive all day, broke the silence.

“I’ve brought some rope from the set, it’s in the back.”

“Rope ?”

“Yeah, been pondering all day whether to tie you down on your back, or face down on the bed.”

Viggo stared at him. “Me ?”

“Thing is, having you on your back I can tease you until you’re hard enough to ride. Face down, I could give you a taste of my belt.”

Viggo gulped audibly.

“You know you’ll have to fight me first, don’t you ?”

“Oh, I _know_ Vig.”

  
**Unnerving Surprise**

  
Sean never fully let go before, but now he does, determined to get from Viggo what he wants.

Dinner forgotten, they stumble through the hall, colliding with furniture and walls. Finally Viggo gives in, relaxing into Sean’s biting kiss.

His hand closing around Viggo’s wrist, Sean takes him to the bedroom. He smirks watching Viggo shedding his clothes eagerly and get on the bed face down, without being told to do so.

Sean leaves the room and Viggo waits patiently until he returns with the rope.

The unexpected expertise Sean shows in tying Viggo to the bed is slightly unnerving.

  
**Skill**

  
“You seem to know what you’re doing, Sean,” Viggo said, testing the bonds.

“Did it before,” Sean replied casually.

“Care to share?” Viggo tried.

Sean checked the knots in the white rope that tied Viggo efficiently to the bedposts. “I played this character called Fenton, he tied this girl to his bed, raped her and tortured her with a burning cigarette. Then he seduced the film’s heroine, beat her up and raped her too. Just a small part, but quite enjoyable.

“You played some sexual criminal ?” Viggo asked him incredulously. “You never told me.”

“Actually Fenton was a Lord.”

  
**Magpie**

  
It was a magpie’s feather, perfectly black and white, with a faint blueish tip. It was quite beautiful really, but Sean wasn’t planning on letting Viggo know.

Like a dog, Viggo brought stuff he found on his daily walks. Once a week Sean just gathered the pebbles, leaves and whatever and got rid of them, but the following night there was always something new on his window sill or kitchen table. Oh well..

This was for keeps though. Sean looked at Viggo, helplessly squirming in the bonds. Surprising enough for a man always going barefoot he had awfully ticklish feet.

  
**Black leather belt.**

  
Two throw pillows propped underneath Viggo raised his ass. Sean yanked the black leather belt through the loops of his jeans.

The testing strike came close enough to feel the air moving, and Viggo pressed his hips into the pillows.

The first blow spread liquid fire over skin, and Viggo moaned.

A few more, and then Sean threw down the belt. Kneeling between Viggo’s legs, he blew a cool wind over heated skin.

“You do realize it’ll be your ass and my belt next time ?” Viggo asked.

“The one with the spikes ?” Sean asked hopefully. “Yeah, I know.”

  
**Pastime**

  
A break in filming, a stroll through the wood, and they sit down on a tree trunk.

Viggo’s fingers – in Aragorn’s gloves – unfasten Boromir/s tunic and shirt. It’s chilly and Sean’s nipples, exposed to the air, are stiff tiny peaks.

Sean eagerly sucks in the proffered fingers, his cheeks hollowing.

His breath hitches when he looks down at Viggo’s hand; long supple, saliva slicked fingers , rubbing and pinching his nipples.

The other hand works on Sean’s breeches, deftly closes around his cock Firm stroking without teasing and Sean moans, his eyes closing, pearly drops falling on Viggo’s gloved hand.

  
**Technique**

  
Late at night it was still warm, and skinny dipping in the big lake seemed a great idea. Elijah, Orlando, Billy and Dom, always in for fun, went with them.

Hobbits and elf busy drowning each other, Viggo and Sean waded to the shore after a while.

It was still warm enough to dry their bodies in the open air, and Sean stretched down in the sand. Viggo sat down beside him, watching the activity in the lake, his cock tantalizing close to Sean’s face.

Loud yelling from the lake swallowed Viggo’s wild cry, as Sean suddenly deep throated him.

  
**On leave**

  
With filming Helms Deep starting next week, Sean knew he would have to go home then to deal with his divorce.

He should feel like a soldier about to go on leave, but war was at home, and as much as he longed to see his girls, he really wanted to stay here,.

That night in bed when the lights were out, he hesitantly told Viggo, who kept quiet for a long moment, and then said,“Okay.”

Maybe Viggo turning his back to him was meant to make it easier for Sean, but it still felt like a physical blow.

  
**Having it out**

  
The air between them feels heavy with unspoken words, and Sean’s house seems too small to let it out.

Outside, breathing is easier. Looking up to the stars, Viggo searches for words, but it’s Sean who speaks first.

“So when I come back in four weeks will we still be ... ?”

Viggo turns to look at him, and for the first time in days they share a smile.

“If that’s what you want Sean.”

“Okay, then that’s settled,” Sean says, unclenching his fists.

*Wow,* Viggo thinks, when stepping back inside,

*I think Sean just told me he loves me.*

  
**A bit of a handful**

  
Leaving for England the next day, Sean is nervous. He wants to see his girls desperately, but he hates leaving Viggo, hates flying.

Viggo spends the evening distracting Sean, keeping him from getting drunk, and his methods prove very effective indeed.

Early next morning at the airport, Sean wants a drink, and the only way Viggo can persuade him not to is to push him into a stall in the men’s room, and distract him a bit more.

When Sean disappears into the gate, Viggo is sad but exhausted, and sits on a barstool,

“Make that a double,” he says.

  
**Laptop**

  
In London, Sean stared at the screen of his newly acquired laptop. This afternoon, his daughter had taught him the basics.

In Wellington Viggo grinned when he sent the digital birthday card he made earlier this week for Sean. How he would love to see Sean’s face when he opened it. He would pay good money for that.

In London, Sean laughed out loud opening the card. Could it get any better than Viggo lying naked on his bed, holding up a paper saying : *Happy Birthday, Sean,* and a large golden bow tied around his erect cock ?

  
**Skunk**

  
Back in New Zealand, Viggo still working on the last shoots of Helms Deep, Sean went to bed to sleep off jetlag. Anxieties were all forgotten as he felt he was home again.

When he woke, he was no longer alone. Apart from a warm body pressed against his, which was nice, there was a very unpleasant smell, and Sean turned around sharply.

Viggo, naked but dirty, grinned at Sean happily.

“Christ Vig,” Sean sniffed, ”you stink like a skunk. Let’s go fuck under the shower.”

”You have a great way with words Sean, I’ll grant you that.”

  
**Viggo's mistress**

  
Viggo’s mistress was called Art. Even though Sean had a secret fancy for her himself, he felt she took a too big part of Viggo’s life. Sometimes they disappeared together into Viggo’s studio, leaving Sean behind for hours. Those nights Viggo’s side of the bed stayed empty, the bed he had always considered rather small, but now seemed too large for Sean alone.

Occasionally she was in for a threesome, benevolently allowing Sean into their artistic alliance. Tonight was such a night, and Sean squirmed happily under Viggo’s hands, the small brush tickling his flesh, painting a nipple kingfisher blue.

  
**Voyeur**

  
There was a camera problem, and Liv strolled away from the set following the direction Viggo went in a few minutes ago.

She stepped back quickly behind the trees when she saw the men in the clearing. It was a very warm day, the sun highlighting the scene in bright colours.

Viggo in full Aragorn costume, head tilted back, eyes closed. Sean in street clothes, kneeling, sun throwing a golden halo around his head, his mouth on Viggo’s cock.

She knew she should leave, but shock turned into arousal, and she stayed until the men shared long slow kisses afterwards.

  
**Rejection**

  
“Look at the stars,” Viggo said, “aren’t they amazing ?”

“It’s just clouds of dust and gas stars are made of.” Liv sounded bitter, and she grasped Viggo’s arm.

She and Viggo had been shooting scenes, had been kissing a good part of the day and Liv seemed somehow affected by it.

Her other hand took Sean’s arm, and pulling them both closer to her, the invitation was more than obvious.

“Get some sleep, Liv,” Viggo said. The men smiled at her, entwining their arms.

They watched her as she walked away, her feet throwing up little clouds of dust.

  
**Politics**

  
To be honest, Viggo talking politics could be a little boring. Not that Sean didn’t agree, but Viggo could easily lose himself in endless rambling.

Tonight he was arguing with Sean Astin, and for once Sean almost liked the guy. His views – as opposite to Viggo’s as possible – left that stern look on Viggo’s face that Sean had learned to love.

Perhaps they wouldn’t even make it home. Maybe he would push Sean somewhere into an alley again, and fight him until Sean went down.

Sean slowly licked his lips, thinking of Viggo using him to fuck the anger out.

  
**Tight fit**

  
“Fuck Viggo, that hurts. Take it off, it’s too small.”

“It’s not too small, it’s supposed to be a tight fit.”

“Tight fit, my arse ! Why don’t you wear it if you like it so much ?”

“It’s really looks good on you Sean, black leather on pale skin.”

“It will be purple skin by tonight. Why do you want me to; what’s it to you, Vig ?”

“So I can look at you while filming, knowing you are wearing it, unable to – as you call it – have a wank. I want you to save it all for me.”

  
**Payback**

  
It was Pete’s birthday and there was a huge chocolate covered cake. Of course Viggo helped cut it, his Ranger’s knife slicing easily through sweet layers.

The hobbits, restrained from making a mess by dark glares from Costume, behaved for once.

Sean, handed a paper plate by Viggo, flicked out his tongue, tasting the rich cream on top of the cake. Certain of Viggo’s attention, he swirled his index finger through the whipped cream, and licked it slowly, his eyes closed.

The cock ring still held him in it's tight leather grip, but at least Viggo would be hurting too.

  
**Completely rational**

  
By the time Viggo gets home, Sean has had a phone call and already knows. He is ready to snap at Viggo, but when he sees him come in, looking exhausted and wary, his anger melts away.

He undresses Viggo, ignoring his weak protests, and puts him to bed. In the kitchen he heats up some leftover soup and forces Viggo to eat it.

“I was sure I would die, Sean. That I would never see you and Henry again.”

“If you had drowned in that river I would have fucking killed you,” Sean says, folding his arms around Viggo.

  
**Back to life**

  
Now that he’s got his life back, Viggo feels there are so many things he needs to do. He tries to tell Sean how he really must make up for things neglected, or even totally forgotten, but Sean hushes him, saying, “tomorrow Vig, not now.”

Viggo tries to argue, but Sean’s jaw is set in that stubborn way, so it’s no use, and he relents.

Sean’s hands stroke his face, and then they kiss, warm, slow and deep.

“Fuck me,“ Viggo demands.

“I love you,” Sean says, voice soft but clear.

“I know Sean. So make love to me then.”

  
**Coming home**

  
Pete stopped filming long after midnight and Sean waited for Viggo, made him lie down on the bed.

The blindfold covering his eyes felt great, and he tried to say so.

Be still.”

Heated oil on his skin, long strong fingers working on stubborn muscles and knots until they gave in.

“Turn over.”

He sighed in pleasure when the touch softened, his cock caressed by oil slicked fingers. A tremor starting in his thigh was soothed away, then a long finger pressed inside him, rubbing exactly that spot, pleasure spiked through him, and he came.

“Happy Birthday, Vig.”

  
**October 20, 2008**

  
“I still can’t believe you’re actually here !”

“Well, you’re only fifty once, Vig.”

“I just didn’t expect you, not after that email you sent me.”

“Did you check that link ?”

“I did, it was great fun. Who would have though that nearly ten tears after ‘Rings’ they would still write slash about all of us ?“

“Well for a fifty year old you’re quite a sex god in those stories, Vig.”

“It’s almost a shame that it’s all made up, well, most of it anyway.”

“Yeah,” Sean agreed, pressing a kiss on Viggo’s straining cock, “most of it.”


End file.
